


Respite

by mayachain



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Anchors, Cousins, Gen, Loyalty, Time Period: Reign of Gregor Vorbarra, being Emperor is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:05:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9036215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayachain/pseuds/mayachain
Summary: The Emperor didn’t seem to require a greeting, much less request it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [james](https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/gifts), [alessandriana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandriana/gifts).



> Dear **james** , dear **alessandriana** ,
> 
> I hope you don't mind sharing this little treat, which was inspired by common threads regarding Ivan & Gregor in your prompts!
> 
> Happy Yuletide,  
> \- a madness writer

Ivan was bracing his arms against the railing of his favorite balcony, looking out toward the palace gardens that the servants had already tidied up after last nights’ royal ball. He’d come out here expecting to nurse a headache before venturing to ask a maid about breakfast, but as luck would have it, a gust of fresh air seemed to have been enough to be rid of it.

When a figure joined him just as he was starting to be chilled, he knew without looking that it was Gregor. 

A ground car would have taken Ivan home after the last of the guests were gone, or he could with very little effort have left much earlier with one of the many lovely Vor ladies. With Miles gallivanting through the galaxy… and the elder Vorkosigans setting up on Sergyar… it had felt wrong to simply leave.

Ivan drew a breath to say something, maybe a greeting, but bit back whatever words he might have had. The rustling of clothes told him that Gregor was as informally dressed as he ever got outside of Vorkosigan Surleau. Their shoulders touched, very lightly, through Gregor’s uniform shirt and Ivan’s robe. In the fresh autumn air, there was suddenly a gratifying source of warmth.

For half a second, Ivan almost tensed up and prepared to inch away. Gregor wasn't always in the mood to be touched, never mind whether any one of his subjects would or wouldn't dare to.

(Nobody ever _touched_ Gregor, for all that there had been hundreds of people at the Emperor’s Ball yesterday.)

(Miles somewhat differentiated between the roles. To Ivan, there was no difference.)

(Gregor was always the Emperor. He was also always Gregor.)

The split half-second where Gregor would have let him know it was _not_ okay to stay still… passed. Ivan’s muscles didn’t so much as twitch.

 

.


End file.
